


Luna Lovegood In 1999

by blotsandcreases



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Gen, Post-Canon, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7694776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blotsandcreases/pseuds/blotsandcreases
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna finds herself adequately occupied by a lot of things in 1999: newly discovered Muggle music, helping out with Quidditch exercise, and being happy as best as she could.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Luna Lovegood In 1999

The sun shone amber with dull white glimmers on Luna’s peach sunglasses. It was almost like she was peering up from just beneath the surface of a honey pot. They were a gift from Dad, in the shape and approximate colour of peaches, and whenever Luna beamed the lower half of the glasses pressed on the entirety of her cheeks’ apples.

Luna was beaming now. Coco and the Candies finished its run with a last frothy, summery note. Luna popped off her CD before tapping Harry on the shoulder. “Which one of yours?”

Harry looked up from his curious toy, a Gameboy Light, and bit on his lip as he surveyed his purchases. His eyes lit up from behind his new spectacles, a gift from Luna, and he made a happy noise as he picked up one called The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. 

They had made this an event of sorts, just for the two of them. Luna loved purchasing music with Harry and then listening to the albums whilst they flipped through the booklets. It was always interesting because once upon a barren time, Luna hadn’t had the slightest clue about Muggle music and only really listened to the witch Coco and the Candies. Harry’s catalogue of Wizarding music had only included The Weird Sisters and some traumatising Celestina Warbeck ballads, but he had many Muggle favourites.

But then one day, what was to be the end of Luna’s musically barren time, Hermione had Flooed, misty eyed and hiccupping, upset with something about a Ginger Spice.

Luna and Harry had been in Harry’s tiny London flat, a few streets away from Brick Lane but far enough from Grimmauld Place, finishing an art piece and eating ice cream. In those earliest days after everything that had happened, colours and crafts had been therapeutic for the both of them.

Luna had gathered enough from the conversation so that when Hermione bid goodbye with “I’ll just listen to their songs for the entire week,” Luna had turned to Harry and said, “Are you sad?”

Harry had stood from his crouch by the fireplace, collecting both of their empty cups for another round. He’d scooped another cupful of triple chocolate for each of them before he said, “Not really.”

“Oh.” Luna had put down her oil pastel and drifted towards Harry. “Didn’t you love them?”

“I never paid much attention, really. But I guess Ginger Spice wanted other things. I dunno.” He’d paused, pushing up his spectacles. “I’m not – I’m not really invested in groups of people as a group. I mean, in groups of other people. Is that awful?”

“It’s not,” Luna had assured him, thinking of overhearing Ron, after too many drinks in a pub, as he apologised again and again to Hermione about leaving the tent and saying awful things. Of the cold damp walls of the Malfoy dungeon and hearing Professor Snape’s rumbling voice with a group of Death Eaters. “Were you ever sad about a musician, then?”

“Yeah,” Harry had said as he handed Luna her cup. “Tupac.”

“Who?”

Harry’s eyes had bugged out a bit and the next thing Luna knew they were strolling into a record shop full of strange Muggle names. And then the next weekend, Luna had popped by Harry’s with her latest shortbread recipe and bundled him into the Knight Bus for a trip to a record shop in Diagon Alley.

They’d been doing this for a year now.

Harry put the Gameboy Light back into its box when he finished examining it with a smile, and took Luna’s proffered chip. They were sat under a copse somewhere in Devon, legs stretched and socks off. Lauryn Hill was singing something about how music was supposed to inspire.

“Any plans after summer?”

Harry nibbled at his chip. He seemed to be thoughtful before speaking, these days. “I got to thinking, maybe Quidditch? I looked up the league requirements and things. I really need to exercise.”

“That’s nice. You’ve got time until next spring.”

“Yeah. What about you?”

Luna tapped the tip of her chip against her front tooth. “Just see the world, I suppose. The different plants and creatures, and different types of soil. And coffee.” Over Harry’s chuckles, Luna continued, “They drink coffee in different ways, all over the world. That’d be lovely. But I’m also waiting for next year.”

They settled into a silence, cozy and full of chips. They might have missed important lines in the music.

Six songs later, Harry pulled out two Mars Bars from his pockets and handed one to Luna. “I dunno what to do about Grimmauld Place.”

“You don’t have to know what to do about anything at once. But it’d be nice to have a real estate agent. Or!” Luna sat up, grinning at him. “You could be one. Have tenants.”

“I’ll think about that,” Harry said with a small smile. He looked earnest about it like he always did whenever she told him what was on her mind. It was one of the things Luna loved best about Harry. 

“Please do. You’ll never work again,” Luna said. “You could just train for Quidditch for a bit, apply for trials, sort out what you need for yourself.”

Ginny had been planning to go to the Harpies’ trials as well. Luna kept count for Ginny five times a week as Ginny did sit ups and pulled herself up from a floating broomstick. 

“Have you got it sorted out, Luna?”

“Myself?” Luna chuckled. “Not quite. We’ll see.”

When Lauryn Hill finished her run, Luna crumpled her candy wrapper and brandished her Muggle music purchase, Mambo No. 5. “Come on, let’s dance.”

Harry let out a startled laugh. “What?”

Luna grabbed his hands and pulled him up. “Let’s dance.”

“I don’t – I’m a shit dancer.”

“Me, too. Come on.”

Luna started swaying their arms and Harry laughed and looked sheepish. She let go of Harry’s hands and let her body move to the music. Lots of people said that her more energetic dances made her look like a demented niffler, but when had she ever paid attention to those trifles?

There weren’t any other people here.

“No one’s watching!” she told Harry, and flung her arms wide, wiggling her shoulders. Luna slowly turned in a circle as she pumped her fists, throwing back the melody to Lou Bega without quite knowing the words. When she faced Harry again, he was dancing. Arms flung out and flapping like a bird, and his face was tilted up towards the canopy, his brown face bright. He was laughing and attempting to sing along like Luna had been doing.

“A little bit of Sandra in the sun!” they shouted at each other.

Luna tipped her head back, beaming. The leaves and diamonds of sunlight were bleeding together like the hazy summer days.

They had time to sort themselves out.

*

Luna had been losing track of dates, but she knew what days were passing. It was a nice sort of chaos. On Saturdays she met with Harry. Most Saturdays they spent inside Harry’s flat, which had slate blue curtains, a cupboard stacked with chocolate digestives, and a drawer with little Teddy’s photographs. Harry visited him daily. He spent the past Christmas lunch with Teddy and Andromeda Tonks and the Malfoys. Harry told Luna that they were awkward because it was the first Christmas the Black sisters were together in many years. Harry’s favourite part was coffee because he didn’t drink it and he could withdraw to the sitting room with Teddy.

Some Saturdays they spent rambling around outside. Luna saw her first movie when they got tickets for The Haunting for a lark and also for Luna’s Muggle immersion. The movie gave them mocking material and stomach aches from too much fizzy drink. They stumbled to the nearest pub and asked for something soothing, and Harry snickered as Luna described their stomach pains in great detail to the barmaid.

The barmaid was patient, had a very alluring mole above her lip, and handed Luna a wooden plate of fresh wheat bread.

“Thank you, you’re a lovely person,” Luna said before plucking the hibiscus from behind her ear to give to the barmaid.

They had kulfi leaning against the grey brick wall of a warehouse a few streets from Harry’s. There was a chip shop with a washed out sign across the street, bustling with kids their age. One of them had wheeled shoes. A few feet from them, in the pale red bus stop, a lad with a jaunty cap was reading an advert for cellular phones and a girl chewed gum as she played with what Harry said was a yoyo. It was almost like magic.

After a passing mention of Harry’s cousin attending a certain University of York and after they surreptitiously turned their backs on a wildly snogging couple in the bus stop, Harry asked, “How do you know if you’re, you know, in love with someone? How do you know you’re in love with them?”

“That’s really difficult,” Luna said, wiping off a stain on her dungarees. “I don’t know. I’d get a T.”

“People keep finding their someone. They love A and they split up. They love B and they split up again. And the same with C.” Harry continued to frown. “But sometimes A and B get together really young and end up married, but how do they know if there’s not someone out there they could love more?”

Luna shrugged. “I don’t believe in soul mates. You can love a lot, I should think. Like you, Harry. You seem to love a lot.”

It was Harry’s turn to shrug, his smile a smidge embarrassed. 

“That’s all right. Personally, I’m really hesitant to label love. It’s all very uncertain for me.”

“It’s a good point.” Harry tugged at a strand of black hair. He hadn’t had a cut since last year. “You have so many good points, you know.”

Luna beamed at him. “I might have a lot of bad points as well. We’re young, though. It’s the time for mistakes, I reckon.” They grinned at each other, and Luna added, “Besides, you have lots of good points, too. Like Muggle records and baking.”

Luna believed what she had told Harry. But sometimes things really don’t quite end with a satisfying full stop. The yoyo girl had boarded the bus and Luna was almost finished with her kulfi as she listened to Harry list his favourite foods for her recipe experiments: jalebi, gulab, jamun, falooda, malai, and mango pudding.

“Never had them as a little kid,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Well,” Harry said with a little shrug, “my aunt didn’t make them and they never had takeaway.”

On Sundays Luna accompanied her Dad to Diagon Alley. It was a weekly trip to ensure that the house would have butter and to ensure that Dad would have some time outside of their property. On one such trip Luna caught a glimpse of Narcissa Malfoy’s sharp profile, uninterested and with an elegant hat, looking as though she didn’t particularly notice nor care about the uncertain glances cast in her way. As though she didn’t regret what she’d done.

Luna thought she could understand, and squeezed Dad’s hand as she sent a smile his way.

Dad looked down at her and smiled his familiar smile, one Luna had known ever since she could remember, although a lot less teary than when Dad had come thundering into the rubbles of the Great Hall, his eyes wild as he’d looked for her. “Don’t you think we should have some candy floss, my dear?”

Dad still couldn’t bear to be in Harry’s presence even though Harry had assured Luna that he understood why Dad had to sell out Harry, Ron, and Hermione to the Death Eaters.

“Harry said he’s forgiven you,” Luna had told Dad one morning before heading out to Harry’s. The two of them always met at Harry’s.

“That’s – that’s good to hear. How kind of him.” Dad put down his butter knife and looked at Luna. “I am not sorry, though, my darling. I am not sorry for what I did. Those foul men had you.”

Thoughts of her cheek against the cold rough dungeon wall had come to her, of the chill to her bones and the ache of her lungs because of her screams under those cruel wands, of her sleepless nights worrying about Dad worrying about her. And then Luna had thought of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and how they were her friends. Being friends meant you want the best for them.

So Luna had just walked back to the table and bent to kiss the top of Dad’s head. “I understand, Daddy. I’ll be back for dinner.”

On these Sundays Luna saw quite a bit. There was a persistent air of damp happiness wherever she went in Wizarding Britain. Luna saw Lavender clutching a bag from the butcher’s shop, her head down and trying her best to hide behind her hair. She flinched when Luna greeted her, and suddenly Parvati was there with an arm around Lavender and a challenging look at Luna.

Luna just smiled and volunteered, “I love lemons. Are those lemons, Parvati?”

“Yes.” Parvati’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “For a cake. And for Lavender’s tea.”

“I was joking,” Lavender mumbled. “You didn’t have to get me some.”

“But you said you love them. It’s okay.”

Lavender looked at Parvati, her face scarred and bright like the moon, biting on her lip to keep from smiling widely.

Luna also saw Astoria Greengrass in Flourish and Blotts, behind a bookshelf dedicated to Arithmancy. When Astoria Greengrass looked up from a book and met Luna’s eyes, she quickly turned her face away, her long dark plait whipping around.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Luna said, “I’m just here wondering if I could have a career in maths. If I don’t get eaten by a Hebridean Black, that is.”

Astoria Greengrass dubiously peered up at her. She cleared her throat and licked her lips, searching Luna’s eyes, before saying, “What kind of maths are you interested in?”

“I haven’t got an idea yet, to be completely honest. It just occurred to me when I stepped into this shop. How about you?”

“Me?” Astoria Greengrass lowered the book, closing it over two of her fingers. “Finance. Predicting rates and inflation, that sort. I’d like to work in Gringotts.”

“Has that always been your plan A?”

“It’s my plan. The plan. I haven’t got a plan B.”

“Oh. Why not?”

Astoria Greengrass shifted the heavy book to her other arm, and as she did so her right sleeve pulled up to reveal a Coco and the Candies bracelet. “Having another plan means you’re setting yourself up for failing your plan. I dislike that sort of complacency, and I really should be purchasing this book.”

“Oh.” Luna said, a bit bewildered and losing track of her side thoughts on befriending a Coco and the Candies bracelet wielder. “Okay. Go ahead. Why haven’t you said so sooner? Sorry to keep you.”

Astoria Greengrass peered around the shelves to the till. “It’s all right,” she said with a sigh. “I was waiting for some shoppers to leave the queue.” At Luna’s tilted head, she said, “You wouldn’t understand, Lovegood. Your lot won.”

“But didn’t your family keep out of it all?”

“Yes, and now apparently we haven’t got a backbone.” Astoria Greengrass grimaced. “Not strong enough to believe in a cause for one side. A part of the oppression in our silence for another side. But we lived, and not broken.” And then she was brushing past Luna, her head down much like Lavender’s had been but her back very much in proper posture.

Luna stared after her and dawdled about the shelves for a long time.

She was still thinking about it the next day as she kept her wand aloft and counted for Ginny. Ginny’s broomstick was floating six feet above the grass as Ginny pulled herself up again and again.

“Thirty-six,” Luna counted. “I’m so glad I lived until today to see your panting lessen. Thirty- eight.”

Ginny grunted. She blinked sweat out of her eyes to look at Luna. Luna smiled at her and nodded for her to keep going.

“Ran – eight – laps – yesterday.” Ginny paused on a pull up. Luna pulled off her peach sunglasses. She basked in the sun and on the glorious sight of Ginny’s biceps, sweat on defined muscles.

“Yes, you’re getting better. Endurance and strength are very important. Forty-one.”

Later when Ginny had a rest, they went to the river. Ginny promptly discarded her sweaty T-shirt, shorts, and her bra before wading into the water. Luna hiked up her flowy skirt and sat on the bank. She dipped her feet in the river and plucked the flowers she liked within her reach.

Ginny emerged from the water, eventually, her hair dark red and tangled. She drifted towards Luna and grasped at her submerged calves. “What did you mean when you said you’re glad to live until today? Are you still having nightmares?”

“No,” Luna said, “I told you they’ve stopped for a long time.” She tucked a comfrey behind Ginny’s ear. There was still worry in Ginny’s brown eyes so she added, “I just thought there’s a lot of wonderful things I did today. And yesterday. And the week before.”

Ginny laughed and swayed Luna’s calves a bit. “Okay, so what about today in particular?”

Luna tucked a comfrey behind Ginny’s other ear. “Well. Today Daddy made us pancakes for breakfast. He said it’s a very popular breakfast food in America so I’m glad I got to breakfast with pancake today. Then I remembered I have the Muggle record Daydream so I listened to that.” Luna found herself twirling a wet strand of red hair. “Then I went here and I’m glad to see you improving. And now I get to be in a river with you. Because I got to be here today.” 

Because I get to live today, Luna silently added.

Ginny pushed herself up from the water and pecked Luna on the lips. “You’re the sweetest, most earnest person I have ever met, did you know that?”

“I know now,” Luna said, beaming. “Come here.” Luna put her arms around Ginny’s shoulders.

“I’ll get you wet.”

“It’s okay,” Luna giggled, and bunched up her skirt to her hips, her bunch of flowers flopping on the grass. Then she was feeling Ginny grinning into their kiss. It might be the faint scent of the purple comfreys because Luna was fast becoming heady. But not heady enough to ignore her legs wrapping around Ginny, the spreading dampness on her blouse and skirt, the shifting muscles on Ginny’s sun-warmed shoulders.

Luna believed Ginny. She was Luna’s first true friend and she was never scornful or dismissive of what Luna had to say. She’d also punched a few people for being cruel to Luna, all those years ago. And Luna had known her for a long time, and knew her well, so Luna was comfortable enough to go beyond snogging. She first let Ginny fuck her three months ago and Ginny had told her after two weeks, “Do you know that you grin so fiercely when you come?”

“This is nice,” Luna said in between three quick kisses. The comfreys had long plopped on the river. “You could stay over in our house today.”

Ginny was running her pruned fingers on Luna’s thighs. “Okay. I could help you with your magical creatures portfolio?”

Luna kissed her on a freckled cheek. “Yes.”

“I could sleep over?”

Luna knew Ginny was worried with the nightmares. Ginny was always tired with exercise during the day so she almost never had dreams at night. But in those earliest days after the war, Luna often took Ginny’s hand and gently ran her fingers on Ginny’s scalp so that Ginny could relax her muscles and slowly let go of her grudges. “Okay. We’ll have hot chocolate made from cream.”

“Isn’t it too hot for hot chocolate?”

“Dad cast a weather cooling charm around the house this morning. He doesn’t like summer.”

“Like me,” Ginny said.

It was true. Ginny always looked excited with the rain. She slept better with the storms. It always made Luna chuckle at such a curious thing, of Ginny loving stormy skies and gloomy weather even though everything about her was sun-bright: her red hair and guffawing laughter and blinding smiles. Her enthusiasm in flying and her patience with improving Luna’s flying. Luna felt a lot like being on a broomstick, with Ginny. With Ginny it seemed like a rush to a lot of possibilities. It was almost like gulping in the bursts of cold wind on a broom flight and finding that it cools and burns you at the same time.

Sun-bright and sunburst. Luna didn’t know when it would end. She was never certain about these things. But she was glad to have what she could, and tightened her squid impersonation around Ginny’s hips and shoulders.

“But I made little cocktail umbrellas for you,” Ginny said, looking quite content with Luna's amphibious squid efforts. “Seven colours for those little summer drinks you love to make.”

Luna kissed her on both cheeks. She loved a lot about Ginny, she thought as Ginny turned around the cradle of her thighs so she could weave flowers in Ginny’s hair. Luna glanced at the sprawl of shattered sunlight on the rippling waters and her view was not long interrupted when Ginny sank lower and tipped her head back for a kiss. And as she carefully bent down for a kiss, Luna felt like she was peering up from just below the surface of a honey pot and she would gladly stay for as long as she could.

_fin_

**Author's Note:**

> When not scrambling for coursework deadlines or daydreaming about fics I'm short on time to write, I'm over at blotsandcreases.tumblr.com sighing happily at all the great things. :)


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